


2400 Hours to Love

by MoonSilver



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Comedy, Fluff, M/M, Random - Freeform, Randomness, Romantic Comedy, meow, more cats, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:44:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonSilver/pseuds/MoonSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What can you do with only 2400 hours to love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. -2400

_Levi_

            It was that dream again.

            I was in the woods again.

Trees surround me on every side, so many of them, with their branches reached to the skies, and I know I should feel claustrophobic, but I don’t. Instead, the only feeling I get is the overwhelming sense of comfort. Comfort and something else. I relish the closeness of the foliage, and breathe in the refreshing air that has become so familiar to me. So I breathe, relish, and wait.

            And suddenly it begins.

            I am flying. Am I flying? It feels like it, so I decide that I must be. No, that’s not quite true. It feels like every cell is alive and thrumming with energy, something I haven’t felt like for a long time. The wind rushes through my hair, teasing and pulling like a child wanting to play. It whispers to me, telling me to stay.

            _Another time._ I say, because today (or tonight?), I will finally get there.

            As I fly, the treeline stops to reveal a clearing where a large tree is standing in the center. It is an old tree. Old and heavy and huge. So much so that the branches droop and touch the ground at places, the picture of an old man crying, I would say. But not now. Because he is there.

            He sits in a hollow of the old tree, like always. His back is turned towards me and I long to finally see his face. The slight wind ruffles his dark brown hair and I dream of touching it, of running it through my fingers.

_Later._ I promise myself, knowing that if I run to him, if I take even one step to him, he will vanish, and it would take another day and night of waiting to see him again. So I stand, watch and wait.

            This is killing me.

            But suddenly he shifts, and I freeze, wondering if he is going to disappear again, but he doesn’t. Instead, I see him move for the first time since these dreams begin, and I brace myself.

            And he jumps.

            And I am no longer thinking.

            I rush to him, laughing with joy when I realise that he isn’t going anywhere, but I skid to a stop before him as he slowly stands up, and I realise that I’m not ready. Not ready to see his face. Not ready to know who has haunted my dreams for months now, but my dream does not listen to me. And I am faced with the most brilliant green eyes.

            He stares at me.

            Wait.

            Wait.

            Wait.

            I’ve seen that face before.

            And I wake up screaming, calling his name, over and over again, not registering as my room is suddenly flooded with light, and arms reach around me. But it is not these arms I want. No. It is the arms of the one I keep calling. But I know he cannot come. He can never come again. The arms that comforted me, that held me will never come again, stuck in a casket meant for the dead.

            Why?

            Why?

            Why?

            Oh right. Because he _is_ dead.

            And the tears flow unchecked down my face.

 

           

 

 

 

_“Eren.”_


	2. 2408: Chips and Phones

_Levi_

There are times when the world stands still. Where there is just me and the enemy. My vision tunnels, only focusing on him, and he glares back at me. I will not stand for this kind of humiliation. I pounce, weapons flashing.

“Oi, Levi!”

“Tch. What?” Hanji sits on the couch, waves with a potato chip bag in hand spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I think that spot’s clean enough now,” she says with her mouth full. I put the cleaning cloth down on a nearby coffee table and glare at her with as much dignity as I can muster.

“Whether that spot is clean enough or not is not your problem. Besides,” I look with disgust at the halo of crumbs around her, “stand up.” 

“Why?”

“Ugh, just stand up!”

“Geez, fine!” Hanji throws her hands in the air and stands up, which would have made me happy enough, only I’m not, because _somebody_ was still holding the chip bag when they did that. Which resulted in the bag spewing all of its contents on the floor…which I just cleaned…two minutes ago.

“Gah!” I yell, and make random mad gestures with my hands. “That’s _it_! Get out!” Hanji looks at me like I might possibly be crazy and looks like she’s about to say something, but she doesn't and shrugs.

“Okay _,_ ”she says as she grabs her jacket and walks to the door, “but you _are_ coming later, right?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The door shuts and I sigh, turning around to measure the damage one Zoe Hanji left behind.

“Gaaaaah.” I face the battlefield again. “Goddamn it.”

My name is Levi ????????. I happen to be ?’?” and I am ?? years old. And yes, all of those ?’s are where I so coincidentally spilled some ink so shut up. I have one very annoying friend who is also a very annoying freeloader who seems to come to my house for absolutely no reason. But other than that, I am alone, thank God. There are many things I hate and almost nothing I love or even remotely like, and that includes people. Though I might tolerate you for about 5 seconds if you are clean, which makes me wonder how the hell Hanji became my friend. Believe me, it’s a miracle.

And speaking of Hanji… my phone is ringing.

Why is my phone ringing?

Why is my phone ringing related to Hanji?

Do I even _have_ a phone?

Oh right. I don’t.

Which brings us back to the problem of a non-existent phone ringing.

I am definitely crazy.

But then again, it turns out that I’m not, because when I finally locate the supposedly non-existent phone, I recognize it as Hanji’s.

Now I face a dilemma. Do you pick up a friend’s phone when they’re not there? Or do you just let it ring? I wouldn't know. I don’t even have a phone. Why don’t I have a phone, you ask?

The answer’s obvious.

Anyway, I decide that it’s rude to answer someone else’s phone, so I just let it ring.

I go back to cleaning.

Or I try to, anyway.

Why are Hanji’s friends so persistent?

“Hello?”

“Congratulations! You are the winner to an all free cruise to the-”

OH-MY-FUCKING-GOD.

I will _never_ get a phone.

_ EVER _


End file.
